


Arno Dorian Imagines.

by Septima_Severina



Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff, Freeform, Happy, Reader-Insert, Self-Insert
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-03
Updated: 2017-06-14
Packaged: 2018-04-12 18:34:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 9,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4490322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Septima_Severina/pseuds/Septima_Severina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Various ArnoxReader Short Oneshots. Mostly romance and fluffy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Imagine Acting in an Erotic Film Directed by Sade with Arno as Your Co-star, in a Modern Setting.

**Author's Note:**

> I have posted them on Arno Dorian Imagine Blog at Tumblr. And then, I realise that I have an account on AO3 too. So, I decide to post them here for people who love Arno but don't on tumblr, but on AO3 instead. :) 
> 
> And FYI. Requests are closed, for temporarily.

 

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

 

 

(Y/N) clutched the film script in her hands. She could remember it by heart now, but she was still a little jittery, for today was the first day they’re shooting one of the love scenes. This was also the first film she worked with Sade, the notorious French director who was both hated and celebrated in equal measure. She looked at Arno, her co-star, and thought it would calm her down to chat with him a little before going on set. After all, he and Sade had worked together before.

“Arno, how is it like working with Sade?”

“Oh, it’s… strange, to say the least. But then I survived it, so it’s not too bad I suppose,” Arno chuckled, flicking his cigarette on the ashtray.

“Survive?”

“I don’t even enjoy telling you this, but… I have to,” he lowered his voice to a whisper, “He’s a madman. If Donatien…I mean if Sade offers you a food, a snack or even some refreshments before filming, don’t take it. This man is insane and crazy. Really, he’s _un lunatique!_ ”

“You’re kidding me,” she chuckled softly, “He’s eccentric and controversial, sure, but that man is so artistic, filled with brilliant ideas and inspirations, how can he be that much of a lunatic?”

He met her eyes, without the playfulness or cheerfulness which usually appeared on his features.

“Trust me. You know I have worked with him before. You won’t like what he’ll try to do with you if you’re not careful.”

“Learnt that from a first hand experience, didn’t you?” (Y/N) teased. Exasperated, he didn’t answer but countinued what he had started.

“It’s for your own sake.”

“Alright,” she shrugged and smiled, “For my own sake”

(Y/N) and Arno starred at each other for seconds, then they heard Sade’s voice calling the lead actor and actress to the setting. Together, they followed Sade’s direction and walked to the setting.

The setting was a bedroom decorated in Rococo style, bathed with dimmed orange lights from plenty of candles and clever lighting scheme. The film was about an affair in early 18th Century, but the director wanted to portray it in a style that went way beyond the Post-modernism that is en vogue now. To be honest, she wasn’t even sure how to call the style, for he transgressed so many lines and disrupted so many artistic traditions. Then again, it was Donatien Sade, the man who stayed beyond the norms and customs, and one shouldn’t expect anything less from him.

And yet, (Y/N) was perplexed as to why Arno still worked with the man whom he had just declared a lunatic. Did he love Sade’s artistic cult films that much, or was it something else? Those were mysterious and complicated issues for her now, but she pushed them aside to focus on her work right now.

“Ready? (Y/N)? Arno?” Sade asked. His lead actor and actress nodded before entering the setting but their feet were delayed by the director’s velvety voice.

“Want to change something again?” Arno raised his eyebrows. He knew that the man always adjusted scripts before the actual filming, even within the last minute.

“No, but did two of you eat or drink something already? I don’t want my actors passing out while we are filming the most important scene that might taking a long time.”

(Y/N) turned to Arno, his face seemed to say, ‘Remember what I warned you’. Then she politely replied;

“Thank you, Sade, but I have eaten already. Let’s not waste time.”

“Oh…indeed, let’s not waste time.” He said with merriness with a little bit smugged as usual. However, she could noticed that there was some disappointment in it. Arno’s caution must have been true, then.

“You were right,” She whispered to Arno’s ear while entering the settings, “He has some plan in his mind, on asking if we have eaten or drunk already.”

“I’m always right,” Arno smirked with a small chuckle that maked others thought they were trying to relax before the scene. After all, love scenes required much concentration.

She didn’t say anything further. She just smiled and focused herself with dialogues in her head, while Arno prepared for his character by changing the expression in his eyes.

Sade’s first assistant commanded everyone around the setting to be quiet. The second assisstant held the slate while the first assistant shouting out for the signal to begin.  

Arno leaned in and kissed (Y/N) while his hands were catching her waist and back. Then he pulled his lips away and murmured sweet, poetic words from the script. She roamed her hands over his chest before moving to the hem of the jacket and removed it from his fine torso.

(Y/N) felt that the script was rather strange. It was the way that the characters talked philosophy while making love, which seemed like a mismatch yet went oddly well together. However, what really got her bothered was Arno’s warm lips. They aroused her. She panted as her exposed back hit the soft mattress.

The scene smoothly went on without re-taking. Finally, Sade yelled, “Cut!”. The actors removed themselves from each other and laughed. Then they exited the setting to the changing room. There was no more scene for them to film today.

(Y/N) and Arno changed back to their casual wears. Before she leaved, he walked toward her and whispered to her ear with sly smirk;

“I liked what we did in there… So, care for a rehearsal before the next scene?”

 

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++


	2. Imagine Discovering Arno Has Gained Weights.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have posted them on Arno Dorian Imagine Blog at Tumblr. And then, I realise that I have an account on AO3 too. So, I decide to post them here for people who love Arno but don't on tumblr, but on AO3 instead. :)
> 
> And FYI. Requests are OPENED. You could send me a request via either AO3 or Tumblr, and I would certainly write them for you! :D

_(Gif by_ [X](http://valrider.tumblr.com/) _)_

 

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

 

 

 

(Y/N) had been told by one of a Cafe Theatre’s maid that Arno was upstairs, at his quarter. She climbed up the stairs and went straight to the Memento Gallery. She didn’t hear the sound of metals clanging from the training room, so she presumed he must be burying himself either in the Memento Gallery or in his own room for sure.  

She walked into the room where he kept almost all of his properties, but she didn’t see a soul when she poked her head inside. Then she forwarded to another room where he also kept his properties, but more personal things.

Arno didn’t stay in his room, but when she strode to the door, her eyes could see the shadow of the tall man strolled around between the balcony and the roof garden.

“ _Bonjour_ , Citizen Dorian.” She greeted while walking pass the balcony and some small stairs.

“ _Bonjour_ , Citizen (Y/L).”

Arno turned around and beamed at her. The reason they called each other ‘Citizen’ whenever they met was the way they had mocking the revolution which was turning into the chaos lately.

“I heard from Jean-Pierre that the council has given you a vacation now. How is it?”

He tilted his head. “Not bad, I reckon.”

“Good.”

She said with a chuckle while looking to Arno, who was dressing in normal civilian clothes today. It wasn’t what she could usually see. But when her sight accidentally met his lower torso and abdomen, she narrowed her eyes and travelled back to his face…which was quite rounder than the last time they saw each other.

And he noticed those looks.

“What’s wrong, (Y/N)? Why are you staring at me like that?”

“Have you ever done any exercises during your  _jour de repos_?” She retorted as she glanced up and down between his face and abdomen.  

“Absolutely! Why on earth I haven’t worked out?” Arno laughed, a bit nervous but it quickly disappeared before he continued, “My duty isn’t the same as yours, I won’t let my strengths and my skills decreasing from perfection.”

“Then,” She raised her chin up and approached to him with a poker face while he doubtfully looked at her.

Unexpectedly, (Y/N) grabbed Arno’s waist swiftly and tightly. He startled and jumped a little with his mouth opening;

“What are you doing!?”

She smirked instead of answered him as she squeezed his flabby waist firmly. Arno frowned and tried to pull himself out from her by stepped back and wriggled, but she wouldn’t let him go easily.

“Stop, (Y/N)!” He cried out.

“No, you  _potele garçon_.”

“I’m not that plump.”

“Not that plump, eh?” She squeezed his fleshy abdomen again, “And what would you say with this?”  

“It is just…Oh, don’t mind it. I’m going to do my training and work out this evening. Tomorrow or the day after it will be vanished.”

Arno whined and reached for her hands, he grabbed it and removed them from one of his delicate areas.

“And you must stop eating those baguettes and breads for a while.”

“What!?” He asked with an unbelieving face.

“Just kidding!” She grinned widely, “Anyway, although your duty do require a healthy body, I would love to see you become plump and chubby like this.” (Y/N) said while dipping her index finger into his abdomen over and over again.

“Oh….” Arno rolled his eyes and twisted his lips, “Please, don’t do that!”

 

 

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ 


	3. Imagine Watching Amelie With Arno, In Modern Day Setting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have posted them on Arno Dorian Imagine Blog at Tumblr. And then, I realise that I have an account on AO3 too. So, I decide to post them here for people who love Arno but don't on tumblr, but on AO3 instead. :)
> 
> And FYI. Requests are OPENED. You could send me a request via either AO3 or Tumblr, and I would certainly write them for you! :D

 

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

 

 

 

“So, what are we watching tonight?”

(Y/N) asked and sat on a divan in Arno’s living room after having dinner, which he made.

“Guess ,” He gave a half smile while searching for the DVD in a cabinet near the home theatre set.

“Not those silly cliché so-called romantic films for teenage girls again, they suck!” she frowned, but seemed that Arno didn’t approve of her opinion.

“Alas my love!” He hummed his favourite [ballad](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_5cv6_DnOl8), “You may find them sucky or crappy or whatever, but I find them quite entertaining, given that you just watch them and don’t overthink things.”

“But I don’t like them,” She complained, “I regret liking them when I was a teenager.”

“When you become more mature, you just find everything in your teenage days embarrassing.”  

“As you do?”

“You have no ideas,” Arno chuckled. At last he could find the film for tonight. He put it in DVD player, but she couldn’t see what film he chose. She watched Arno as he returned to his seat, beside her.

The player loaded and showed root menu on the screen. Accordion music with the young woman with quirky haircut and cheeky smile on her face appeared.

“No,” (Y/N) laughed. She also had loved the film for a long time, about ten years, “You watched this too?!”

“Of course! The film is really gorgeous, who wouldn’t love it?”

“Maybe the action-lovers.” She said, and then added, “But who are we to judge who would or wouldn’t love something?”

“Ah, the individuality of the individual!” He concluded and then pressed play. The film began with the memorable soundtrack and the narrator’s voice.

“I’ve always wanted to visit Paris,” she murmured. “Every time I hear the soundtracks, I picture a small pathway alongside a canal, hiding in a corner of the city. And a window with a view from Île de la Cité or Quatier Latin in the rain.”

“(Y/N), the truth is, the film makes Paris much more romantic than it is.”

“To you perhaps, since you were born and lived there. But visitors from around the world would beg to differ.”

“Those tourists only see the beautiful side of the city. They don’t see another side that’s hidden from view.”

“Oh,” she sighed, “Should I be disappointed?”

“Don’t be,” he suggested with a smile to cheer her up, not to make her give up on her all-time ideal destination, “In my opinion, maybe Paris isn’t that romantic. But when I watched the film for a very first time, I was like I want to go back there again, to see if there are some little things which make me feel  _plaisant_ with my daily life. I think it made me change view toward Paris.”

“And I would love to see you put your hand into a grain’s sack, or collect strange stones and throw them into a canal.” (Y/N) teased.

“The one who throw those stones into a canal must be you. I prefer beating cakes and puddings.”

“I don’t believe that you would be satisfied with it.”

“Or you would let me calculate, how many couples in the city are reaching their climaxes in a time?” Arno grinned naughtily as she giggled. They didn’t say anything from then on; the living room had only the sound from the speakers.

As the film went on, she felt Arno’s hand touching the back of her hand and his fingers intertwined with hers. The scene showed Amelie going down the Métro’s platform and a beggar holding a phonograph player which was playing [classical French ballad](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Dc7rELkvHSk).

He hummed along with the film and rested his head on her shoulder. She looked down to him and smiled softly. She had never felt this way before when she watched a romantic film with someone she could call her significant other.

The warmth and tenderness from his fingers made her comfortable enough to lean her head against him, something she never did while watching a film at home or in a theatre. But she couldn’t help it, because the film was so lovely and made her want to cuddle.

As that the film was reaching its peaked, she found her sight switching between the Frenchman’s face and the LCD screen. Her emotions were quite mixed now. Even though they were peaceful and delightful, there were also warm fever and desire within them.

“You’re smiling,” Arno noted while looking up to meet her eyes. He was grinning with satisfaction. The film was reaching the almost finale scene when Amelie and Nino, the leading male character, exchanged their gentle and delicate yet passionately kisses.

“Can’t I?” (Y/N) asked, raising one of her eyebrows.

“No,” He paused for a little, her smile was suddenly fading away.

“But you should kiss me like Amelie does to Nino.”

He bantered with a sly smirk, she almost scolded him for the stupid and mood-killing answer but she was chuckling instead;

“What if I say no?”

“I will make you say yes,  _Ma chéri._ ”

 

 

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++


	4. Imagine Getting A Birthday Surprise From Arno.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have posted them on Arno Dorian Imagine Blog at Tumblr. And then, I realise that I have an account on AO3 too. So, I decide to post them here for people who love Arno but don't on tumblr, but on AO3 instead. :) 
> 
> And FYI. Requests are OPENED. You could send me a request via either AO3 or Tumblr, and I would certainly write them for you! :D

_(Gif by_ [X](http://strategichomelanddivision.tumblr.com/) _)_

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ 

 

 

“I appreciated your help so much, (Y/N),” said Madame Trenet, one of the council’s members.

“Thank you,” (Y/N) smiled and helped her mentor gathered all the documents on a large wooden desk.

The elder women began, “Today is your birthday, isn’t it? It’s alright to let me manage these things alone. You may leave and take your time now.”  

“It’s just an ordinary day, ma’am, I could stay.”

“Of course you could. But this is an order.”

“Madame Trenet…”

“No rejection, do as you’re told,” the mentor said with a smile.

No choice for (Y/N). The two women bade each other farewell. The younger one walked out from a room to the hall, which was still filled with Assassins.

She wasn’t willing to carry out the order at all; she either had to return to her rented room near the Headquarter, which had nothing for her to do except reading and writing, or go to Café Theatre to have a conversation with the Parisians. Normally, she might be enjoying the solitudes or the social interactions. But for today, it meant nothing to her when Arno hadn’t shown up since morning.

She thought he was out working for the Creed, but Jean-Pierre and Antoine told her that Arno had no commissions until tomorrow. It made her recall a small talk with him yesterday:

_“Arno, what date is today?”_

_“(The date before your birthday).”_

_“And tomorrow?”_

_“(The date of your birth), why are you asking me? Couldn’t remember the date from Gregorian calendar, could you?”_

_He teased with a cheeky smile, because nowadays she often stated the date from[the calendar that the Republican was now using](http://image.slidesharecdn.com/frenchrevolution-2-091116102343-phpapp02/95/french-revolution-the-radical-phase-40-728.jpg?cb=1258388760), while he still used the old-style calendar._

Obviously, he wasn’t aware of her birthday and she wasn’t amused, yet she hadn’t shown her disappointment. She knew that the matter was too small to be upset about, but deep down she also hoped that he would remember.

Some members of the Creed blessed her as she was walking out of the Headquarter. She politely thanked them but her heart was very heavy, and then heavier when she arrived at her room on the third floor. 

The room was dark with dusk. (Y/N) sighed and sarcastically chuckled at herself for thinking that Arno would suddenly appear right in front of her, while anything wasn’t happening at all.

“Silly me.”

She crossed the room to light some candles. As she searched for matches, a noise began ringing behind the door. It wouldn’t distract her if the incident didn’t imply that something severe occurred.

Peaking outward at the corridor, she saw nothing. But her instinct demanded her to move further. Therefore, she kept following the direction which she deduced must be the source of that noise.  

Finally, she reached the highest floor of the building. The sound-maker still made an annoying noise, which she now knew was from the last room. She opened the door, which wasn’t locked, but saw no sign of it. The room seemed empty.  

She lingered in that room for a minute, expecting the cause of the noise to show himself. Nothing happened, so she shrugged and returned to her room. But when the door flung opened, the room wasn’t as dark as she had left before. It was brightened by plenty of candles around the room.  

“ _Joyeux anniversaire_ , (Y/N).” a soft, low and gentle voice whispered beside her ear, it made her jump a little.

“ _Merde!_ ”

(Y/N) turned around. Arno was there, grinning widely.

“Stop smiling like that.” She hissed, “You almost scared me to death!”

“Oh! But I didn’t mean to kill you. We celebrate the joy of living through another year on our birthday. It wouldn’t be good if you died on the anniversary of your birth, would it?”

“I’m not amused, Arno.” She crossed her arms, “With all your stupid pranks.”

“Ah…My poor birthday girl,” He pulled her close to him while she was still frowning, 

“I’m not the one who made those noises, though. Antoine and Guillaume did!”  

“It isn’t about the noises.”

“Then I’m really sorry about it.” 

She looked into his eyes. He always made those eyes when he asked for mercy and wanted her to give up her anger.

And…yes it worked as usual.

“Besides these candles, what would you do for your mess?”

“Anything you desire, mon amour,” He smirked naughtily and slyly, “Anything.”  

 

 

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++


	5. Imagine Discovering That Arno Spend Almost All of His Money On Fashionable Clothes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have posted them on Arno Dorian Imagine Blog at Tumblr. And then, I realise that I have an account on AO3 too. So, I decide to post them here for people who love Arno but don't on tumblr, but on AO3 instead. :) 
> 
> And FYI. Requests are OPENED. You could send me a request via either AO3 or Tumblr, and I would certainly write them for you! :D

_(Gif by_ [X](http://esteljune.tumblr.com/) _)_

 

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

 

 

 

“Say it again, Arno Victor Dorian.”

(Y/N) frowned at Arno. Obviously, his puppy eyes didn’t help him this time, when she called him with his full name.

“ _Mon amour_ …”

“Don’t call me like that.” She crossed her arms. Her expression indicated that if he didn’t bring out any single word, trouble would definitely arise. “Just say it, now.”

He tilted his head a little, and unwillingly mumbled.

“I’m not exactly flush with coin right now.”

“Because of… ** _this_**?”

She pointed her thumb at the chest on a table, which was delivered to the Café Theatre this afternoon before Arno returned from outside. When she opened, it was full with men’s clothes – accurately, fashionable men’s clothes. She suddenly knew that they belonged to her lover.

“Ah…I must tell you, I haven’t spent all money on them.”

He blurted out with a little hysterical laugh. She raised an eyebrow while he confirmed by nodding enthusiastically.

But he had to stop, when she took out a piece of paper from her pocket and read all the clothes’ cost out loud.

“I beg you,” Arno moved swiftly and tried to snatch a receipt from her hand. “Please…”

“And will you accept the truth that you are broke because of those damn breeches and flamboyant coats?”

He held back, but hesitantly muttered.

“Sort of…”

“For God’s sake!” 

 

 

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++


	6. Imagine Being A New Recruit Mentored By Arno.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have posted them on Arno Dorian Imagine Blog at Tumblr. And then, I realise that I have an account on AO3 too. So, I decide to post them here for people who love Arno but don't on tumblr, but on AO3 instead. :) 
> 
> And FYI. Requests are OPENED. You could send me a request via either AO3 or Tumblr, and I would certainly write them for you! :D

_(Gif by_ [X](http://yocalio.tumblr.com/) _)_

 

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

 

 

 

“ _Oui_ , (Y/N)! Keep your strength and balance like this!”

Jean-Pierre, who always wore a green coat, shouted along the sound from irons clanging – the swords in his and (Y/N)’s hands – while the sounds echoed around the training room at the Café Theatre’s second floor.

“You’re so kind,” moving around the ring with her fencing partner, she grinned at him.

“With my pleasure, Mademoisalle.” he replied as she jumped back, “Arno’s apprentice is just like my apprentice too.”

She laughed and asked him again; “And should I ask you that where the hell my actual mentored is?”

(Y/N) felt a bit unpleased and irritated. When she arrived at the Café, early as she always did, she found out that her mentor was not here. Nobody knew where he had gone, not even with Madame Gouze, the Café’s manager.

So, she had to train with his friend now.

“He hasn’t told me, either.”  

She sighed a little and kept swinging her sword against Jean-Pierre’s. As she pressed hers until Jean-Pierre’s back was bended backward, his eyes were moving to the door. He happily blurted out;  

“Ah! You’re here,  _mon ami_!”

(Y/N) turned her head around, following Jean-Pierre’s voice. A tall man with blue coat was there. He was none other than her mentor, Arno Dorian.  

“ _Salut_ ,” He greeted shortly with a half-smile, eating baguettes from a plate in his hand.

“ _Bonj_ —-!”

She tried to greet back, but the man in a green coat didn’t let her. He pressed his sword against hers until it flung off and dropped on the floor. She grasped and punched the air, where her opponent was supposed to be standing.

And she bumped against the ground.

She thought she might have been scolded by Arno, of being distracted and unfocused on her target until she was almost defeated. She slowly sat up and crawled on her knees, reaching for the sword. Then she darted at the man who stood near the shield and a bunch of axes which had been hanging on a wall.

Arno indifferently stared at her, chewing his  _goddamn_  baguette, saying nothing at all. And when she grabbed a sword and tried to stand up but fell down again, he sighed heavily. Then he rolled his eyes and shook his head.

(Y/N) tightened her jaws and forced herself to stand up, even though she had injured her knee and elbow.

She was so angry at his behaviour! She didn’t say anything, passing her discontentment into the next sword flinging. Her forces were increasing, and her tactics were better.

At last, she completely defeated Jean-Pierre and received no more wounds. Once the training was over, Jean-Pierre left the room abruptly. But he didn’t forget to praise her – since she was doing so well – then bade her farewell.

“Won’t you said anything, mentor?” She began by emphasising the last word as she was hobbling from the centre of the room.

“And what would you want me to say, my dear  _protégé_?” Arno raised his eyebrow while eating a last piece of baguette. “You did what you are expected, nothing more or less.”

_Unbelievable_ , she thought as she put a sword back to its own place. Suddenly, her body was swiftly lifted up from the ground. She exclaimed softly;  

“Arno!”

“All members of the Brotherhood do not call their superiors by their name, do they?” He smirked widely, as he carried her to a couch and placed her down gently.

“But is the mentor, who failed to do his duty, reasonable to be called with that title?”

“He is,” Arno said as he grabbed her wounded leg to place on his thigh.

She snorted, rolling her eyes, “And where the heck have you been all this morning? If you have something to do, why don’t you just send me a word? What is more, when you came, you just didn’t say anything useful!”

His face was more solemn. He pretended to look at her knee as if it was severely injured; actually, it was just only scratched and a little bit bled.

“What’s wrong?”

He looked up at her intense face and smiled a bit weakly.

“There’s nothing to be worried about,  _ma douce chérie_.”

“Arno, Please…”

“I, I just…” He took a deep breathe, “I had just overthought about my old memories. I was able to sleep just one or two hours before dawn.”

“Are you alright now?”

“ _Certainement_!” he lied with a wide grin. She noticed that his answer contrasted with his eyes.

(Y/N) drew her leg back. Arno’s glance was following hers as he tilted his head. Without a warning or a sign, she pulled him by his scarf and fiercely smacked her lips with his.

Arno did the same as she did, without any hesitation. They passionately and enthusiastically exchanged their kisses, like they had been thirsty for a long time, before they parted:

“Much better?” she purred upon her breathe.

“Not much,” he grinned as he pinned her down, “But I think we can manage this.”

 

 

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++


	7. Imagine Kissing Arno At the Top of the Notre Dame.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have posted them on Arno Dorian Imagine Blog at Tumblr. And then, I realise that I have an account on AO3 too. So, I decide to post them here for people who love Arno but don't on tumblr, but on AO3 instead. :) 
> 
> And FYI. Requests are OPENED. You could send me a request via either AO3 or Tumblr, and I would certainly write them for you! :D

(Gif by X)

 

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

 

 

 

“There you are. Citizen Dorian.”

(Y/N) said, panting from climbing to the top of the highest peak of Paris – the Notre Dame – in order to find Arno. She knew too well that he must be here or some place, where he could be alone, for the night.

And there he was, sitting on the top of the bell tower.

“Monsieur Beaumont makes a speech again, doesn’t he?” He turned his head at her direction.

“Yes,” She replied and approached to him.  “And the wine doesn’t taste quite good enough. I thought it would be better if I spent time with someone who was still sober tonight.”

“How did you find me here? You don’t think that I might be drunk at somewhere down there?”

She sighed as she sat beside him. She laughed a little bit before answering;

“People who have known each other for years, Arno, how could they be such  _un idiot_?And how come that they don’t know or can’t see something, which obviously, right in front of them like an open book?”

(Y/N) was right. He had not many places which he could retreat on a night like this – when people of  _République française_  was celebrating the anniversaries of their nation. Even at the Café Theatre; Madame Gouze and other members of the Brotherhood were celebrating as well. They invited orators and philosophers, and also musicians to perform their talents.

But for Arno, it seemed like he didn’t enjoy this annual occasion. She noticed it every time when the day came; two years ago, he volunteered to go out of Paris for a mission, and last year, he just disappeared without any words. That night she found him at the top of Les Invalides.

“Indeed,” Arno chuckled. “But I believe that there is nothing interesting for you up here.”

“Nothing?” She raised her eyebrows; a smile appeared at the corner of her mouth.

“I think the firework show is going to begin soon.”

“I bet you, it is going to be late as usual.”

“It’s alright,” She shrugged, “Tonight, I have all the time in the world and I can wait.”

(Y/N) leaned her head against Arno’s shoulder. Again, she knew that Arno had something on his mind. She wanted to ask him about it, but she felt that he definitely didn’t want to tell her.

Arno looked at his lover, who surely had many things to ask him. She smiled at him when she was aware of his glance.

“If you have something on your mind, do ask me.”

“Certainly – I will – but not now.”

Amazement showed in his eyes. She sighed before continuing;

“The reason is I don’t want to put any pressure on you. Besides, I think you need some time to make up your mind with it.  But, if you insist, then pray tell me.”

“My though was wandering from my mind. I just only want to think about random matters. But I can’t help letting my though drifts away.” He said, looking down at the city below. Some kind of nostalgia was shown in his eyes.  

“There is nothing wrong with me, isn’t it?”

“No, there is something wrong with you, since we have met.”

“ _Crétin_ …” She laughed as she shoved his arms lightly. It made him grinned as well.

“(Y/N),” He said, his voice softer. “No need to feel anxious and worry that you have done me wrong or anything likewise. Because you are much more far than all of sorrows and sadness. The truth is, you are my delight and you mean the most to me.”

(Y/N) tilted her head upon hearing his words. She couldn’t believe what she had heard. If Arno’s face wasn’t strongly filled with emotion, he might have been playing a prank on her for sure.

She was speechless for almost a minute. She though; she was drowning into the deepest of his eyes. Suddenly, a sound was whirring around, liked someone was firing guns. It woke her up from her own state – the fireworks show had already begun.

The sky of Paris was bathed with light and numerous colours, yet Arno still had the same solemn look in his face. He was waiting for her words. But she had no any single word to tell him, except for her feelings which had been overwhelming inside her bosom right now.

She leaned in to kiss Arno. As their lips met each other’s, his lips immediately captured her without hesitation until he could taste the wine from her tongue. His hands reached her waist and her face, while she gently stroked his cheek. They didn’t notice or hear the sound of fireworks anymore.

 

 

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++


	8. Imagine Arno Comforting You, Because Your Cat Has Been Missing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have posted them on Arno Dorian Imagine Blog at Tumblr. And then, I realise that I have an account on AO3 too. So, I decide to post them here for people who love Arno but don't on tumblr, but on AO3 instead. :) 
> 
> And FYI. Requests are OPENED. You could send me a request via either AO3 or Tumblr, and I would certainly write them for you! :D

 

 

 

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

 

(Y/N) was sitting on the edge of the fountain inside the Café Theatre’s yard. The sun had almost set, but she didn’t move away. She didn’t care that anyone would see her this time; laundress, servant boy or anyone else. She tried to wipe her tears away, but the harder she tried, the more her tears were keeping flow out.

 

A shadow was casting near her, along with the sound of footsteps slowly reaching her from behind. She turned around – it was Arno.

 

“Bonsoir, in the mood for  _la poésie_ , aren’t y—” He was about to greet her like he always did. Then he suddenly paused, seeing the tears that were streaming down her cheeks.

 

He knew immediately, it wasn’t an appropriate time to tease or banter.

 

“(Y/N), why are you crying?” He sat beside her while grabbing her hand.

 

She sobbed silently. But when she was able to gather herself, she sniffed then began;

 

“I-It was André. He-he has gone missing!”

 

“Oh dear,” Arno chuckled lightly, as he reached his arm to enfold her. “Shhhhhh,  _ma cherí_ , hushed now. He is a cat, it impossible for him to go missing.”

 

“But it has been almost a week! It’s unusual. He had never gone away more than three days!” (Y/N) was sobbing again. Arno rubbed her upper arm harder. 

 

“Maybe he is infatuated with a female out there. When he is satisfied or bored, he will surely coming back home to you.”

 

“I-I’m afraid that he might have been death already. Last time I saw him, seems like he isn’t well at all.”

 

“He might be hiding somewhere to cure himself. Be optimistic,  _mon amour_.”

 

She shook her head; she did listen to him no more, crying harder and harder – thinking a bad thought about the unfortunate fate of André. He sighted softly, before grabbing her hand and pulled her to stand up.

 

Arno led her into the Café. The Clients in the hall were sparse – almost empty, since the Café would be closing in a half minutes.

 

“Wait here, I will get you some tea.”

 

(Y/N) chose the table at the centre of the hall, while Arno was heading to the bar. A couple minutes passed by as he walked forward to where she sat, he was carrying a tray with a teakettle and two porcelain cups with him.

 

As he placed them on the table, he sat beside her and poured a tea and passing it at her front.

 

“It might do you good.” He cheered.

 

“Sound so British.” She tittered and sipped the tea. The warmth from the cup – that ran through her palms – made her felt better than previous hours.

 

“You are misunderstood. The Russians also drink teas too, not just the British.”

 

“Oh, really?” She pretended to be astonished while picking a piece of pastry from a plate next to a kettle.

 

“I heard it from the Russian themselves.” Arno said with a cheeky smile.

 

“Men or women?”

 

“Men for sure! I met them at Vienna.”

 

His eyes were widened and frightened a little, while (Y/N) was laughing at his expression. Both of them had some tea for a while, before (Y/N) stood up.

 

“Let me walk you home.” He stood up too, but she shook her head and smiled a little.

 

“I feel better now. You have solaced me; it’s very kind of you already.  _Merci pour le thé_.”

 

“But what if something unfortunate happened to you?”

 

Arno looked at her with his beautiful eyes, which were always worked when he wanted something so badly. And for this time – It did.

 

(Y/N) let Arno walked her to the building near the Café, where she rented the room there. It wasn’t far at all and he had a plenty of time, so he accompanied her until she reached her room.

 

“Thanks you again, Arno.”

 

She unlocked the door. But when she was about to kiss the man who walked her here, she could hear the voice from a corner of the room. She swiftly darted into the dimmed room, then exclaiming with surprised.

 

“Hey! Are you alright!?” Arno shouted.

 

“Oh…Never better like this before!”

 

(Y/N) beamed while she carried something with her in the arms. It was her cat – André, it had come back to her!

 

“You see?” Arno grinned and crossed his arms.

 

“Don’t you want to touch or pet him?”

 

He didn’t do as he was invited; he was solemnly staring at the fluffy grey cat, as if it was the very most dangerous animal in the world.

 

“I’m just recalling that I must report the summaries of the latest mission to the council. And it is alright, isn’t it? That André is returning home safe and sound.”

Arno blurted quickly, he barely breathed while the words came out.

 

“Are you sure?”

 

She tilted her head. She thought she could sense that her lover had something with a cat. Because he didn’t linger still at her door as usual; he was ready to leave in any seconds.

 

“Yeah, it’s the very urgent affair. I’ve got to go now.”

 

But before Arno left, she shouted after him;

 

“Tomorrow, I will bring André to the Café. I knew it is your day off. So, we could play with him all day long!”

 

At last, he swore loudly as he walked to the stairs;

 

“ _Merde!_ ”  

 

 

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I write this imagine because my landlady’s cat had gone missing at the last weekends, I’m also love him as well. During the time when he had gone missing, he was unwell too. For now, we have found him already. But he has gravely injured. I think he is gonna be recovering soon, since my landlady took him to a vet already. :)


	9. Imagine Taking Care of Sick!Arno.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have posted them on Arno Dorian Imagine Blog at Tumblr. And then, I realise that I have an account on AO3 too. So, I decide to post them here for people who love Arno but don't on tumblr, but on AO3 instead. :) 
> 
> And FYI. Requests are OPENED. You could send me a request via either AO3 or Tumblr, and I would certainly write them for you! :D

_(Gif by_ [X](http://valrider.tumblr.com/) _)_

_Requested by_ [the-gothic-assassin](http://the-gothic-assassin.tumblr.com/).

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

 

 

“Wake up, sleepy head!”

 

(Y/N) slammed open the door to the bedroom Café Theatre’s owner, without knocking. When she did this, she would normally be scolded. But this morning, she didn’t hear any such voice.

 

She ran to the bed, where she saw a man curled up in a blanket. Certainly, he was the one she had been looking for.

 

“Oi! Wake up, Monsieur Dorian!” She shouted sarcastically as she flipped the blanket out of him.

 

Instead of seeing Arno sleeping peacefully as usual, she saw him wearily looking at her. She noticed that there was something unusual happened with him.

 

Arno’s face was exceedingly red, so was his nose. She could feel the heat from his body. When her hand reached his forehead, it was hot like a fire.  

 

He murmured meaninglessly, then opened half of his eyes, “…(Y/N)…What did you just say?”

 

“You have been assigned on a mission, but it’s alright. I think Jean-Pierre or someone could take your place.”

 

“Mission?” His voice was indistinct, like someone had been squeezing his nose. But the truth is, his nose was all stuffy right now.

 

“Yes, but you don’t have to do it. I will inform the council that you’re having a bad cold.”

 

“But…” He tried to stand up and get out of the bed. But, the result wasn’t what he wished. He felt dizzy and exhausted –he collapsed and fell to the floor instead.

 

She sighed as she helped him get up. Though his figure was looked slim, he was actually quite heavy. She almost fell down too while she was tossing him back to the bed.

 

“Sleep. No excuses or conditions.”

 

(Y/N) said as she was about to leave the room. She stared at him, and then at the window, which looked a lot like an escape route. Arno suddenly understood – it was a sign which said ‘I’m watching you. Don’t you dare get out without my permission.’ Then she went down the tunnel which leaded her to the Brotherhood’s headquarter, to inform that Arno was having a bad cold right now.  

 

The council acknowledged the incident. They replaced Arno with another Assassin to complete a mission, just like she predicted. She went back to the Café Theatre, fetched a cloth, water, and medicine, and swiftly headed to Arno’s room.

 

Arno was sleeping. She grabbed a chair at the bedside table. Sitting beside his bed – she secretly admired his features, while swiping a damp cloth on his face to lower the temperature.

 

He looked so vulnerable and innocent, adorable even, she thought as she glided her hand along the warm, reddened cheeks. She almost kissed him there. But then she stopped herself – thinking that he needed to rest.

 

About two hours later, the man on the bed started to groan. It made (Y/N) bounced in her chair; she quickly leaned forward to him.

 

“What time it is?” Arno asked, holding his forehead.

 

“It’s almost afternoon,” She replied as she helped him sit up. “Don’t worry about it. Here, you should eat and take medicine.”

 

(Y/N) said before leaving the room. She came back a couple minutes later, carrying a tray with a bowl of soup and baguettes. She placed it on Arno’s lap, and threw herself on the same chair.  

 

His eyes stared at the tray and her face. Their eyes meet each other; they had the same question in their mind. The first one who broke a silence was (Y/N).

 

“Go on.” She nodded to indicate to him.

 

“I’m sick.” Arno babbled, “You can see for yourself, that I’m powerless right now.”

 

“But you could still move your arms.” She crossed her arms, raising her brows – trying so hard not to spoil him. “Help yourself.”

 

“What if I faint while I’m having the meal?”

 

She chuckled softly, glaring at him with a mocking smile; “No one falls down while they’re eating.”

 

“It’s possible. What if my symptoms are graver than you could see?” He said as he looked at her with his enchanting eyes. She tried to look away, but they were so irresistible.

 

“Maybe…” She looked at him with the corners of her eyes, “Say ‘please’ and I might make it convenient for you.”

 

He folded his lips and said; “ _S'il vous plaît, mon amour._ ”

 

“Alright, alright.”

 

After (Y/N) helped him with foods and medicine, she took off his shirt to give him a bed bath. But suddenly, when she was bringing a wet cloth from a basin, Arno grabbed her wrist and pulled her down. She landed exactly right onto his bare chest. 

 

“Arno!” She scolded, “Who said that he was exhausted; no any power left in him, huh?!”

 

“Yes, who said that?” He smiled, holding her tight. She could feel the heat from his body, and she didn’t want to catch his cold, so she tried to wriggle away – but then she didn’t really want to get away. 

 

“ _Tu es fâché_ …”

 

She twisted her lips. Abruptly, Arno kissed her and smirked slyly;

 

“I’ve heard that exercise and sweating can help break a fever.”

 

“But it’s not dark yet.” She mumbled, turning her face away – pretending to be upset.

 

“And who said that I should have to worry about time?”

 

(Y/N) turned back to face Arno. She sighed as she put her arms on his shoulders.

 

“You crafty idiot!”

 

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You could let me know everytime, if the french phrases are incorrect. :D


	10. Imagine Arno Being A Daddy, Playing With Your And His Daughter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have posted them on Arno Dorian Imagine Blog at Tumblr. And then, I realise that I have an account on AO3 too. So, I decide to post them here for people who love Arno but don't on tumblr, but on AO3 instead. :) 
> 
> And FYI. Requests are OPENED. You could send me a request via either AO3 or Tumblr, and I would certainly write them for you! :D

 

 _(GIF by_ [X](http://nikashepard.tumblr.com/) _)_

 _(Requested by_  [MoonlitHoundoom](http://archiveofourown.org/users/MoonlitHoundoom/pseuds/MoonlitHoundoom))

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

 

 

 

  
(Y/N) was sitting on her knees, talking to the little girl with twin tails at the door frame of the Café Theatre’s side door. The woman’s dress suggested that she was going out on a business.

 

“Remember what I have said, Juliette?”

 

“Don’t play a prank on Madame Gouze or anyone else, Maman,” She replied. Her face was a little bit sad.

 

“That’s my girl,” (Y/N) kissed her daughter’s forehead; “I won’t be too long,  _être une bonne fille_. And don’t persuade your Papa to play anything dangerous.”

 

“And what is it that you’d find dangerous?” She smiled cheekily.

 

 _Just like her father_ , she thought, and then answered; “Anything which require climbing and leaping among buildings.”

 

(Y/N) repeated her words again, before leaving the Café. Juliette couldn’t help but walked back upstairs, since she had strolled around the Salon – which was filled with customers and scholars who usually came to the Café – and no one could played with her (or accurately, she couldn’t play a prank on anyone).

 

She walked pass the training room and Memento Gallery – where her mother and father taught her to play the harpsichord – until she reached the garden.   

 

Her (E/C) eyes saw the tall man walking around the garden, with a book in his hand. She ran quickly to him.

 

“ _Papa!_ ” She shouted as she hugged him tightly.

 

“Ah,  _mon petit ange_ ,” Arno said as he closed the book, sat down, and seized her into his arms. “I thought you were going with your Maman.”

 

“She said her business was a secret, I can’t go with her.”

 

“Also she said that you can’t play a prank on every one, Am I right?”

 

“And I can’t play anything exciting with you either,” Juliette twisted her lips.

 

“So, it also means that we can’t practice your climbing and leaping.”

 

Arno said with an indifferent expression, but his daughter jumped a little;

 

“No, Papa! I want to practice them!” She grabbed his hand, her eyes were immersed.

 

“But your Maman has said that you can’t do that, hasn’t she? Beside, aren’t you afraid of falling?” He teased her by pretend to agree with (Y/N).

 

“I always have you to watch over me, you would surely save me from it.” She circled her arms around her father’s neck, “Pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeease, Papa. I want to climb the Notre Dame like you do, when I grow up.”

 

 

“You have to promise me – one thing only – if you want to.” He still pretended to be the solemn father, but he was almost laughing.

 

“What is it, Papa?”

 

“Don’t tell your mother, because we are sneaking out from here – the garden!”

 

Her face immediately turned cheerful. She nodded eagerly and hugged him tight, before taking off her dress – to reveal that she had been wearing a shirt and pants like a boy already.

 

Arno picked up the dress, to hide it behind the bushes. He was confident that (Y/N) would never think of this place.

 

The father and the daughter started leaping and climbing to the rooftop of the Café; from the main building to the building – where the most of the staffs slept and lived – but they didn’t go further than the area around Île Saint-Louis.

 

“Papa,” She tugged Arno’s sleeve as they were sitting on the rooftop of a building near the Notre Dame – resting their legs, after leaping and climbing buildings for hours.

 

“Yes, what is with you,  _ma petit fille_?” He smiled.

 

“When can I climb to the top of the Notre Dame?”

 

“Maybe when you’re fifteen or sixteen, when you’re skillful enough,” He said. Then he saw his daughter’s face, and sighed softly.

 

“But it’s almost ten years from now!” She whined, “You will be older; your hairs will turn grey and you will be slower than you are now.”

 

“Just ten years, it can’t make me that weaker,” Arno chuckled, caressing her head. Then he looked at the dusky sky.

 

“Stand up. We should go home now, or your mother will be worried.”

 

Juliette jumped up and followed her father down from the building. When her feet reached the solid ground, Arno bended his knees for his daughter could climb upon his back. As everything was ready, he started running back to the Café Theatre – laughing loudly and cheerfully with his girl.

 

“How would you tell Maman, about what we have played today?” Arno asked her – to check as if she had forgotten their promises already.

 

“I would tell her that we had played princess tea party! And you had agreed to dress like a pretty lady, before we went for a walk around Île Saint-Louis!”

 

 

“That’s my girl.” He let her down to the ground inside Café Theatre’s yard, kissing her forehead before walking hand in hand to the hall.

 

(Y/N) was sitting on a coach, grabbing a little dress. When she saw her husband and daughter approached to her, she began smoothly;

 

“Could each one of you explain this to me?”

 

“Maman,” Juliette ran to her and kissed her cheek. “I didn’t persuade Papa to play anything dangerous!”

 

“Oui, mon amour,” Arno smiled innocently. “We didn’t play anything dangerous!”

 

But it seemed like (Y/N) didn’t believe them. She continued;

 

“What did the two of you play today, then?”

 

“I persuaded Papa to play a princess tea party with me – he also dressed like a lady too – Before we went out for walk around the place!” the girl blurted out and sincerely looked at her mother face.

 

“And I told her to take off the dress, because I gave her running lessons too,” He backed up his daughter’s words.

 

“Really?” She narrowed her eyes. Both of Arno and Juliette nodded like their lives depended on them.

 

Arno thought it was the best to get away; he quickly picked Juliette up and walking straight to the staircase.

 

“Regardless, you’re still going to be punished,” She stopped them. Then she inspected Juliette’s clothes and found them to be full of stains. “This is the third shirt you’ve stained this month. There will be no chocolate after dinner for you, Juliette. And you…Arno.”  

 

“Yes? There will be no chocolate for me either, right?” He smirked.  

 

“No,” She smiled wickedly, “Worse than that.”

 

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++


	11. Imagine Going to Sade's Birthday Party With Arno, In Modern Day Setting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have posted them on Arno Dorian Imagine Blog at Tumblr. And then, I realise that I have an account on AO3 too. So, I decide to post them here for people who love Arno but don't on tumblr, but on AO3 instead. :)
> 
> And FYI. Requests are OPENED. You could send me a request via either AO3 or Tumblr, and I would certainly write them for you! :D

 

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

 

 

“Monsieur Sade is really the kind of man, don’t you think?”

 

(Y/N) asked Arno, as they walked out from the lift, to go to Donatien Sade’s rooftop penthouse in Paris’s suburb. But seemed like her companion wasn’t in the mood for talking at all.

 

“Oh, please don’t make a face like that. You look lovely, don’t you know?” She touched his cheek, trying to make him smiled for once.

 

“Lovely? Don’t be ridiculous.” He frowned as he replied. That because he was in the [French maid costume](http://www.alternativefancydress.com/_images/_images/xl/326-womens-french-maid-costume-maid-to-order.jpg) with makeup on his face.  

 

“Smile, just smile! This is his birthday, not his funeral. How would he react as he sees you frown all the time at his party?”

 

“I would be happier if he doesn’t have crazy ideas like this!”

 

“ _Mon cheri_ , you know him all too well, don’t you? Why can’t you just get used to it?” (Y/N) did akimbo and sighed, looking at his wry face.

 

“I do get used to his crazy ideas, but, I hardly can acquiesce with them. Besides, you look better than me.”

 

Arno complained as he starred at her costume. It should be him, wearing her[costume](http://vignette4.wikia.nocookie.net/uncyclopedia/images/3/31/Myl%C3%A8ne_Farmer_Libertine.jpg/revision/latest?cb=20140725182530) right now.

 

“Then, I will presume that this time you can.” She grabbed his wrist and smile. “Off we go! Chop, chop!”

 

(Y/N) and Arno was walking pass [the entrance](http://wordpress.hurwitzjamesco.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/03/paris-penthouse-for-sale.jpg). They saw the sculpture of Apollo near the staircase; it would be an ordinary imitation of Greek Sculpture, if it didn’t wear sunglasses. And the more cooler was the collection of Andy Warhol on the wall.

 

The door to the garden was opened. All of guests were altogether gathering there; they were shouting, laughing and dancing - no one even cared about their costume.

 

“Let’s join them.” she leaded Arno to the party, with anticipation.

 

Donatien Sade was in [Dr.Frank-N-Furter](http://carboncostume.com/wordpress/wp-content/uploads/2013/11/frankfurter.jpg) ’s costume. (Y/N) saw him sat on the armchair - that was placed near the swimming pool - drinking champagne, as if he was a king of sort. She suddenly screamed out loud with joy and ran to the poolside, shouting to the man on the armchair;

 

“Whoa! Who’s the birthday chap here!”

 

“Oh…my darling girl.” Sade greeted while walking to her, hugging and air kissing her. “You look so handsome  _ma chéri_ e.”

 

“Have you seen Arno yet? You’re gonna love his dress.”

 

Sade searching the crowd - seconds later - he found Arno, at last. He smirked.

 

“Is this your idea?” He asked, looking at Arno - he tried to pull his skirt down with one hand, and picked a glassed of champagne up by another hand.  

 

“Whose else?” A little smile appeared at the corner of her mouth.

 

“But I have a better idea.” The host of the party suggested.

 

“I know you do.”

 

(Y/N) and Sade walked toward to Arno (But did the selfies together, at first.). He frowned a little, as he saw that she was holding Sade’s arm.

 

“ _Bonsoir, bellami_.” He greeted. “Oh, or should I say  _ma belle_?”

 

Arno rolled his eyes as he drank his champagne.

 

“He just said what he has seen, is that wrong?” She said, still hugging Sade’s arm.

 

“No, but I just….”

 

He didn’t finish his words; turned his head another way instead. She and Sade met each other’s’ eyes, before she said again;

 

“Why don’t we go to the dance floor, and save the drink after that?”

 

“Really? You want to dance to  _that crap_?” He wrinkled his nose – with unbelieving face as he starred at her.  

 

“Oh, who cares about the lyrics or the voice, in a party –what we have to care is the beat now!”

 

(Y/N) dragged Arno to the dance floor. Seemed like he didn’t enjoy so much, but since she was enjoyed and having fun so much – he couldn’t help himself but smiles, moving his body just a little and quitting complain about his costume.

 

After dancing for half an hour, she leaded Arno back to the bar – there they found Sade with a woman in a suit from 19th Century.

 

“Have fun, you two?” He asked as he handed them glasses of cocktails with olives.

 

“Quite.” (Y/N) replied.

 

(Y/N) and Arno continued drinking liquors for a while; She saw various and numerous type at the shelf – a bartender didn’t mind, as she required to try some.

 

At first, Arno did warn her on being drunk after the party – she didn’t care. She kept coaxing him to drink with her, until she could see him showing symptoms intoxication.

 

“Let’s dance!” Arno grabbed her wrist, after drinking a few pecks of Absinthe.

 

“Are you for real!?” She chuckled, while hadn’t resisting at all.

 

He didn’t answer, but brought her right to the dance floor instead. The previous song had ended, [the new one](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=17O3lL1aUrg) replaced it.

 

He jumped onto the table and began to dance – no, he didn’t dance like others do in a party – he did the Charleston. It was obvious that he got drunk already.

 

(Y/N) saw Sade walking toward her, carrying a camera phone and recording the incident. Sade saw her too; he moved next to her.

 

“Your plan is a success, Monsieur.” She laughed out loud; watching Arno – in a French maid costume – danced his hell out, like he had been dancing on high heels for his entire life. “Do you plan to upload it to Youtube?”

 

“Maybe. But, I bet you want it, right?”

 

“Who could resist his face after he saw the video?” She grinned, “I’m dying to see his face tomorrow!”

 

 

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++


	12. Imagine Putting Make-Up On Arno.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have posted them on Arno Dorian Imagine Blog at Tumblr. And then, I realise that I have an account on AO3 too. So, I decide to post them here for people who love Arno but don't on tumblr, but on AO3 instead. :)
> 
> And I have to sorry to you all, that all of request is closed.

                                                                                              

_(Gif by[X](http://templar-queen.tumblr.com/post/134859028794/to-your-health-gentlemen))_

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

 

“Really, can’t we stop doing this?”

 

Arno asked (Y/N), while he was sitting opposite to her.

 

“No,” She answered, applying blush to his cheeks. “You have said that you would do this, by yourself. Or would you like to break the agreement?”

 

“I wouldn’t tend to do that. But, I think we can adjust some conditions…”

 

“Go talking with the Marquis. I have no rights to adjust or change them. Well…turn left.”

 

Arno didn’t do as he told to do – she has to force him.

 

“(Y/N)…” His voices were weak.

 

“Who told you to make a bet, and being drunk in the end?”

 

He twisted his lips. She kept talking; “I can’t help you with this.”

 

“But you can halt your hand – from putting these colours on my face.”

 

“ _Je suis désolé_. Now, just stop talking for a second, please.”

 

She picked pink beeswax up, skillfully putting it on Arno’s lips. She didn’t wait for him to whine; she pulled him up, undressing his shirt and robe – tying a corset around his tor so tightly. He yelped.

 

“How could you be an Assassin, Arno Victor Dorian, whilst you couldn’t be able to bear with a tiny matter like this?”

 

“It isn’t the same thing!”

 

“It’s the same, _mon beau_ …or I should say ‘ _ma belle’_ , instead.”

 

(Y/N) chuckled with herself, before getting [the pink dress](http://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.philamuseum.org%2Fcollections%2Fpermanent%2F131609.html%3FmulR%3D31821%257C2895&t=ZGFlMWVkZDkzMmZlMDFhMGIzMGFmODQ1NGE2OGJjZWYwMDU3NzgwYSxYZnI4ckpFSQ%3D%3D) upon him. Arno frowned as she dragged him to the front of a mirror. She smiled happily, squeezing his arm, while he was less than content.

 

“Oh, why don’t you smile, _mon bebe_? You look so beautiful!”

 

He groaned annoyingly.

 

“Alright, then, it’s time to meet the Marquis.”

 

Arno and (Y/N) walked down together, arm in arm, to the dining room. Marquis de Sade was there – sitting and talking with Arno’s fellow Assassins; Jean-Pierre, Antoine and Guillaume.

 

As they saw her escourted Arno into the room, they cheered and clapping their hands loudly and cheerfully.

 

“That’s it!” Antoine yelled.

 

“How beautiful, _mon amie_!” Said Guillaume, while Jean-Pierre and Marquis de Sade just chuckle softly.

 

“Gentlemen.” She called out for the attention, grinning widely. “Please, welcome…Justine Bonbon!”

 

The men were cheering louder. Arno turned to her, tilting his face with unamused gesture.

 

“You don’t say, (Y/N).”

 

“Why can’t I? The beautiful lady needs the lovely name.” She ignored his grumble, shrugging and then talking to the men again. “So, who want to accompany our delicate Mademoisalle first?”

 

Arno gaped with her words and the eager demeanours of his friends.

 

“ _Quelle_?!”

 

“Come on. You have said this. Everyone could hear you, last night, don’t you remember?”

 

(Y/N) retorted, taking a seat beside Marquis de Sade.

 

“Don’t be shy _Justine_.” The Marquis consoled him, “We would go easy on you, _ma belle_.”

 

 

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++


	13. Imagine Slow Dancing With Arno during Rainy Day in Modern Day AU.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know that everyone know the famous song like ‘La Vie En Rose’. But yet I still want you to listen to it, as you’re reading this imagine. 
> 
> And I’m sorry for posting something that I didn’t make a promise before. It’s just popping in my head, while I’m sitting in front of my laptop.

 

 

 

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

 

            The rain was falling on the rooftop, making pleasant rhythms to the ear of (Y/N) while she had been sitting on a divan. But she would be more pleasant, if the man who was sitting next to her hadn’t reading a poetry book all the time.

 

She just wanted to be closer with Arno. That was all.

 

The phonograph on the shelves started to play an Edith Piaf’s song. Suddenly, her thought was bursting.

 

“ _Mon Chéri_ ,” She said, approaching to Arno, “Are you gonna read it all day?”

 

Her boyfriend smiled a little, as she was resting her head on his shoulder.

 

“What is it, (Y/N)?”

 

“Dance with me.”

 

“Hmm?” He felt confusing with her sudden bidding. “What mood are you in now?”

 

“In the mood for love,” She answered, squeezing his hand gently and smiling with her reference about one of their favourite films.

 

Arno chuckled, looking at her closer.

 

“Edit Piaf? Isn’t it so old fashion or _cliché_?”

 

“Sometimes, I just want the things go so cliché. We don’t have to do something different, just because we want to be different from other people or we just want to against the norm of society. Let’s just dance, shall we?”

 

Arno didn’t say a word. He grabbed her hand to get her up. The previous song ended, and La Vie En Rose was turning up.

 

They swayed as the song playing. The warm of the flesh that exchanging between them made (Y/N) sighed a little with contentment.

 

“ _Il me dit des mots d’amour_

_Des mots de tous les jours_

_Et ça me fait quelque chose_.”

 

Arno tried to make his voice like Piaf, urging her to spin around. She did so, giggling and hiding her face at the crook of his neck. She knew, though Arno didn’t say it straight, he meant as he was singing – literally word by word.

 

“I don’t want this to end at all,” She pecked his jawline. “I am for real, that I said I’m in the mood for love.”

 

“I know, _Ma chéri_.”

 

He kissed her temple, tightening his arms around her body.

 

 

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

 


End file.
